


Breakfast at Queenie's

by bluebeholder



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Fluff, Gen, Low-Key Food Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 09:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13678926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: Newt wakes up early after spending a night with Tina. Although it's a little surreal to have breakfast with Tina's sister when said sister can hear his every thought about what happened last night, Newt discovers that he really enjoys spending time with Queenie. He also discovers that the feeling is mutual.Fic is series-tagged for tracking and archival purposes only, it's a standalone.





	Breakfast at Queenie's

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everybody! This is my entry to the Fantastic Beasts Calendar. I was stuck on what to write and a friend suggested that I write Newt and Queenie bonding as friends, something they didn't really do much in the movie. So here we are!

Newt steps out of the bedroom and softly shuts the door behind him. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he turns away—and meets the gaze of Queenie, who’s sitting at the table. Chin on her hands and a coffee cup steaming in front of her, she’s watching him with a smile.

“She’s having the best dreams,” Queenie says.

“I’m—glad,” Newt says awkwardly. He’s acutely aware that he isn’t wearing a shirt. Queenie had stayed over with work friends last night so he and Tina might have a little peace, and Newt hadn’t expected her to be back so early in the morning. He always feels a little awkward around Queenie, not sure what to say to someone like her.

She doesn’t react to any of his thoughts. Queenie flicks her wand and the chair across from her scoots back. “Come sit down, honey,” she says. She sends a cup of hot coffee his way and he’s quite grateful. “I’ll whip you up some breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Newt says, sidling into the chair. Queenie seems utterly unfazed by it all, for which he’s grateful. Surely she can hear his embarrassment loud and clear, and just as surely she says nothing about it at all.

“I hope Tina didn’t leave you too out in the cold with dinner last night,” Queenie says cheerfully, flicking her wand to start potatoes peeling and dicing in midair and cracking eggs into a bowl to self-scramble. “I know she didn’t have much in the way of a plan.”

“We, ah, did fine,” Newt says. He contemplates hiding what they actually ate in favor of inventing a menu, but gives up pretty quickly. She’ll hear it anyway. “The chicken soup was lovely.”

Queenie sighs, but Newt catches the flash of a smile as she spins in place to send the eggs into a pan on the stove and slide a piece of white fish into the oven. “I just can’t believe she fed you leftovers!”

“Well—she made the spice cake herself,” Newt protests. “It was quite good!”

“I’m only teasing,” Queenie says. Cream cheese levitates itself from the fridge and begins to add itself to the omelet on the stove, alongside the now-diced potatoes. Newt is really transfixed. Queenie is a master of kitchen magic; it’s a real spectacle to see. “Tina can cook but she ain’t always got the patience to really do it. How was the rest of your evening?”

“Brilliant,” Newt says. He firmly banishes any thoughts of Tina even partly undressed and hears Queenie faintly giggle. Still, Newt forges onward through the blush he’s sure he’s now sporting. “I’d no idea what a gossip she is.”

“You ain’t heard half of it,” Queenie says. She sends bread fluttering to the toaster and sets it going, and then sails a small jar of plum jam through the air to the table. “What’d you two talk about?”

“MACUSA gossip,” Newt says. “The tiff in the Broom Licensing Office that got brought all the way up to the lobby—?”

Queenie laughs as she flips the omelet. Delicious smells fill the kitchen by now and Newt’s mouth waters a little bit. “Oh, yes, I though that our new Director would have a conniption. First time she had to deal with something like fifteen people all hurtling round on stolen brooms trying to hex each other!”

Newt laughs at the image. “Poor Director Harding.”

A plate soars to the table and lands before him. A potato omelet, broiled white fish, and two pieces of toast. Queenie sits down across from him with two pieces of toast and begins spreading jam on them. “Eat up, honey,” she says.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Newt protests.

Queenie waves off the question. “I ain’t ever hungry in the morning,” she says breezily. “And you’ve got all those chores to do, after you eat properly.”

That’s true, so Newt busies himself spreading jam on his toast and tucking in. It’s all delightful, and though he’s quite used to cooking decent food on a camp stove or over a fire, this is really special indeed. Queenie has a gift.

“Aw, thanks,” she says.

Newt looks up, startled. He’d forgotten—

“I do try to stay out of your head,” Queenie says. Her hands wrap around her coffee cup nervously and she looks down at the tabletop instead of Newt. “You just have so many thoughts, I’m bound to catch one or two. ’specially when you don’t try to hide.”

“I don’t mind, you know,” Newt says. He looks down at the table, too, and hopes Queenie won’t be bothered. “I didn’t really…know you, when I said I did.”

“Don’t change anything,” Queenie murmurs. “Ain’t like I got any right…”

Newt shakes his head. “You can’t help it,” he says softly. Merlin’s beard, he’s got so much he can’t help. Of course he understands. “You’ve never used it wrong once, not in all the time I’ve known you. It would be different if you were—ferreting out secrets, or gossiping, but you’re less gossipy than your own sister.”

There’s a faint sniffle and Newt dares to look up. She’s watching him with big round eyes, clutching the cup with trembling hands. “I never want to hurt anybody,” she says.

“And you don’t,” Newt says earnestly. He fidgets with the handle of the fork. “I like—I like having you around. You understand, and I don’t have to—to—”

“Explain,” Queenie supplies, as Newt loses track of the word he was looking for. “I don’t need you to tell me things ’cause I can just understand them.”

“Yes,” Newt says. “And now I’m used to it, I don’t mind, you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”

She nods a little, putting her chin in her hand. “You’re a real sweetheart, Newt Scamander,” Queenie says. “You ain’t had an easy time of things, but here you are trying to help me…”

 Newt shrugs, instantly uncomfortable. “I’m not so bad off,” he says. “Not now, anyway. I have friends and a permanent address…”

Queenie laughs a little at that. “You know what I mean,” she says.

He does, of course, know what she means. It’s always been his weak point, from the time he was a very small boy. Newt does not fit in well with people.

“Neither do I,” Queenie says. “It’s real hard not to just tell people you know just what they’re thinking. And you have to be careful, or they call you frigid for not flirting. Not easy.”

“People are never easy,” Newt says with deep fellow feeling. He takes a bite of omelet and considers as he chews. “Creatures aren’t easy either, but they’re at least less frightening.”

Queenie rolls her eyes as she sips her coffee. “You may be sweet but you’ve got about as much common sense as my sister.”

“Tina is a highly sensible woman.” Queenie gives Newt a long look, and Newt reconsiders. “Tina _can be_ a highly sensible woman.”

Queenie reaches out across the table, past the dishes. Instinctively, and to his own surprise, Newt takes her hand. “Thank you for trusting me,” she says. “Ain’t many who want to trust someone like me.”

“It’s nice,” Newt says. “To. Have someone to confide in.”

She smiles, an awkward little shy smile. “It’s nice to be confided in.”

New York wakes up outside the apartment. Inside, Newt and Queenie finish their breakfast in companionable silence. Newt doesn’t feel awkward around Queenie anymore. He might not be sure what to say to her, exactly, but—she can hear what he’s thinking. His thoughts are sure, and what they’re sure of is that he and Queenie are going to be very good friends.

**Author's Note:**

> All food is period-accurate and I made a sincere attempt to keep it kosher. Literally. Although I'm following movie canon and in the film the Goldsteins are not portrayed as explicitly Jewish, I refuse to add insult to injury--ESPECIALLY when every 1920s-era cookbook recommends options like the ones presented here.
> 
> If you're interested in making yourself some 1920s-era breakfast, the following three books were my primary resources...
> 
> _Breakfasts, Luncheons and Dinners: How to Plan Them_ , by Mary Chambers (1920)  
>  _Good Housekeeping's Book of Menus_ (1922)  
>  _Mrs. Allen on Cooking, Menus, Service_ , by Ida C. Baily Allen (1924)


End file.
